of the return home

Knowing the end of the tour was near, the weather decided to make it easier for us to depart.  The gloomy skies, the drizzling rain, the wet walk to the metro.  They were all leading to a departure that might have been much harder in the sunshine.

check out December weather in Paris

The walk to the metro was wet and mostly silent.  Once again, I realize how much we walk when we are on vacation in Europe.  Our bodies grow stronger and straighter.  Our jaws relax and our eyes and ears perk up.  Leaving the different life will be hard on me.  Much less so for Charles my husband.  He is eager for American television and normal hours.

from the internet

Prior to our departure, we made an assessment of the room.  I longingly gazed at the Marriott the kind of hotel we save forever to be able to pay for stay and enjoy it.  It wasn't quite the same as staying with my daughter, who appreciates a good meal and a lovely dessert, but it was much appreciated that the concierge level had lovely wines to choose from and three English beers and lots of cheese to snack on.  They even had an equestrian magazine about Palm Beach to read.  Good bye 6 star life.

The good news about flying back is you fly all night and it is night when you get here, so you can go right to bed.  The weather was sodden in Tallahassee as well and we arrived back to a gray rainy weekend with miserable animals and more rain than measured in a few years.  The yard had turned a leafy compilation of moisture and sand washed from the hills above us.  The chicken coop cage floor was completely replaced with leaves and muck.  The pools of water around the house almost qualified as reflection ponds they are so long.

Wet, sodden, leaf laden, home is still home.  The bed felt fabulous, not because it is so much better than the 6 star hotel, but because it is mine.  All mine.  And there is something fabulous about going to your own spot.

www.boisemattress.com

Recently, a friend of mine lost his spot.

I don't know for sure, but I think he was living day to day.  Food might have been a luxury.  Then, he lost his car, his room, his bed, his spot.  It is very disconcerting.  Mostly, because the people who stay in that position long, tend not to recover.  They end up on the squares in Boston, Atlanta, Paris, San Francisco.  They end up near bus stations and highway exits.

So for me, coming home to appreciate my spot, allowed me a different perspective  with which to help him with a temporary spot.  And of course help climbing out of his position: a job, a car to borrow, a hotel to stay in for interviews in Orlando.

It is absolutely fabulous that we have the ability to travel to places of far away.  But, it is also important to cherish my earnings and help others who need a hand. No strings.  No judgement.

I hope soon that he has his own spot.  For I want him to feel like there is a special place all his too, at least his while he is getting back on his feet.

I am grateful for the gifts I have, for the ones given to me along the way, and grateful to have enough to share.

Happy New Year everyone.

Rising to the Occasion of The Choice to Give

Today, on the way home, I pulled into my local Publix parking lot like usual.  It was 40 degrees and damp and cold out.  I had just driven in from Jacksonville.  There at the end of the island was a woman holding a child with a snow suit on.  A man stood beside her with a sign that said, "Help my family and 3 children".  The sign was made with cardboard mounted on styrofoam.  They stood, with him holding the sign and her swaying with the child who looked heavy.  He should have held the child and her the sign.  First doubt.

I proceeded to the parking area where I usually choose to park.  As I exited the car, I turned to look at the family on the island.  I was contemplating buying them a Publix family dinner.  But, after I grabbed my bags, I stood upright just in time to see the adults running and then stopping to click open the van and jump in.  The man ran back to pick up a Publix sack, then back in the van and they squealed off.  I couldn't tell if it was because he Publix staff had just walked out.

I saw a very similar group at the Fresh Market.  A woman holding a child with a sign and the tenish year old sitting in the grass just staring at the parking lot.  Her sign said simply, "Help Please".

I did give the Fresh Market lady $5.00.  But, when I saw the trio at Publix flee the parking lot, another scenario popped into my head.  It was the warning of my friends and many websites: Don't fall prey to the Gypsies!

Lain Mckell photo on modern day gypsies Huffington Post

When we were in Paris, the Gypsies were the pick pockets, the fleecers, the ones that would take what is yours without sound or feeling.  They also have good tricks.  In an earlier blog I described the ring on the ground as the "catch" to get you distracted, interested and then ask you for money - all for the very valuable but too small gold ring.  It was a very good trick.

There was no trick at Publix.  There was no trick at Fresh Market.  And I don't know who these people are or where they went after they disappeared.  They are clearly not the Tallahassee homeless people that I have seen in the past.  Most of the time the men by the interstate have one sign on cardboard and it may say "help a vet" or "why lie, I want a beer."  Before I say anything  that is construed as stereo typing, I know that homeless people come in all varieties single, families and just unlucky.  I also have met two families that thought it was okay to sit in front of the Publix and ask for organic handouts.

I am not judging the decision or desperation or whatever puts people in this situation.  But I am looking at it differently.  The Gypsies and their tricks gave me a new perspective.  People who ask for things or beg are not all crazy.  They are not all destitute.  Though begging is not a life I would want, surely it could be a choice just as much as the life of tricks and petty theft.  For some people it may actually be a choice.  For me, I can tell you it would be a very desperate situation where I would prefer to stand outside holding a child in the freezing cold, when there is a Publix that could provide shelter 100 feet away.

I did not buy the chicken dinner for the three people.  I wanted to though.  I wanted to help, which is precisely what they wanted me to feel.  I am now more skeptical.  More leary.  I am not proud of this, but I am not proud of the people who were taking advantage of those feelings with a child on curb in a parking lot.

I don't feel indifferent, but I do feel like the trick may have made it to America.

Keeping on Keeping on

So Keeping on Keeping on is an old expression from my youth.  Definition: keep trying; keep doing what you are doing,  So what has happened since the last post is myriads of Mothers telling me of similar experiences to mine.  When I called my amex card to book a flight to Europe to stay with my daughter, she shared her own daughter's story.  It was amazing to have yet another mother reach out to me to tell me not to worry, and to try and let go.

So funny, that at 3:30 a.m. a stranger from Spain calls to speak to Morgan.  I ask who he is and why he is calling and he keeps talking about a bus to Andorra and I tell him no that I booked Paris. Then, I finally wake up enough to know, he was not speaking about me!  He was calling about her.

Six weeks later, I have been to France to meet her and I have returned. And she has gone on to Brussels, Paris, Basel, Berlin, Amsterdam and who knows where else. She has mastered the rail.

I no longer worry and she no longer fears calling me to tell me she has no plan.

How lovely an idea, to have no plan.

Rising to Leaving It is really hard to do

Leaving our little spot in Bordeaux at 7:30 a.m. was sad.  Sadder yet, because last night, I got up to find the bathroom and before I knew it, down on the ground, banged into the large stone in the bottom of a four foot cave.  I just stayed there for a moment before I realized that I was hurt.  The ribs had smashed into the stone and just bruised and injured before I had a grasp on the wall!

Sorry that I fell, but teeth were yet to be brushed, so I limped to the bath, which has a sink bath combo in one room and a loo in the other.  The entry way to get there is four feet tall.
while the cave feature is a lovely idea, there are some things that one wants to be aware of.

Our room is basically the wine cellar in an old (European Old) home.  The wine is in a glassed off section and locked.  The beds look at the wine and the door to the loo is four foot and wide and wooden like a castle door. And heavy and leads to a four foot high tunnel.  All was well till I missed the step.  Drats!

View from the Bed

View from the Bed to the reading wall

the way out

We left our humble wine abode and cave and headed back to Paris.  Walking back through the Christmas market sort of felt like home.  For the Tallahasseean's it is like having the Market days of Tallahassee on every street of the plaza and then some.  Into our lovely hotel at Champs Elysee, the friendly staff and the interesting atmosphere.  I would say the large part of the residents tonight are of mid eastern descent with lots of special arrangements for them.  Their own reception area in the lobby, quite nice and healthy.  The long outfits that they wear are sure to keep them warm as well.

We checked in, cleaned up and took off for the shopping district.  The whole place is decorated head to toe.  It is more fun to watch people that buy things.  The shopping centers have open to the street doors.  The mall guards are everywhere and the people are 6 deep in every direction.  It is amazing the nonchalance of the parents about the children.  They hardly look back as kids run behind ahead and drift through crowds.  Perhaps too much American TV has turned us paranoid.  Or perhaps, I don't understand growing up in a big city where crowds are the norm.  Either way, the whole city is bustling and alive and shopping.

We had a fabulous lunch at the LaDurre, home of the macaroon.  It was tasty, fancy and French all at the same time.  Morgan had the fanciest sandwich I have ever seen and I had lobster.  The lobster was half the price of the sandwich!  I think I got the better deal.

The walk to shopping was pleasant and day was crisp, but not cold.  I enjoyed the walk after the long train ride in from the "Provence" The scenery was so like Indiana except less wind turbines and more castles, and of course more vineyards.  But lots of wheat and corn growth happens here, remarkable.  And beautiful.

But once on the streets of Paris, one is obliged to stay focused on the streets of Paris.  All around you announcements to avoid pick pockets and tricks and you are warned by every hotel agent.  I didn't have any trouble, but then I have a nifty little handbag with hidden pockets in it (thanks to my husband :) )

The Christmas decor is totally extravagant as you can see.

The buildings are all the old opera or archives or palaces and have been transformed for modern use.  All of the stores are beautiful.. All I have to say is that your wallet better be beautiful too!

For our massive entertainment for the night, we attended a show by Olivier Giraud.  I saw his ad as the only all English speaking comedy show in Paris.  I asked Morgan and she said yes.  Once again there was tension as we could not find our way to the show.  Looking forward and looking down did not allow us to see it was on our left the whole time!  Geez, what kind of fuddy duddy fusses over the show directions?

The guy was great fun and to our surprise, when he asked what cities of America are here, there was only one: Tallahassee! Four of us in the audience and all from Tallahassee.  What fortune! So the show goes on and I will not spoil it for you, but the trailer is on youtube.  He was very funny and all of it ringing with some form of truth.  Towards the end of the show, he picks the Tallahassee lady Rainey to come to the stage.  She does extremely well and applauds abound. 

 When the show was over, they graciously waited and we got to meet Pierre Vivier and Rainey of Chez Pierre, in Tallahassee.  We enjoyed their story of love and adventure.  Pierre, that daring rascal, went to Macon, Georgia with the Allman Brothers Band in the 60's and then off to Tallahassee with his love who was in FSU.  How fun, on this trip around the world, I have met two people with Tallahassee connections (not counting my daughter)!  I couldn't find a lot on the internet to share with you about them, but they apparently sold the restaurant to a relative, who had to sell for health reasons.  That was why Chez Pierre became the Front Porch. But apparently, Pierre is still the king of chocolate. As a funny aside, Morgan said she was backpacking through Europe and Rainey said, yep, I did that in 1966!  What a great connection for life.  Awesome choice young Morgan, awesome choice.

 Rainey had the gleam in her eye as she said that to Morgan.  Wondered if there was more to the nod and and the wink than, yep I know that.  There was definitely a pride thing of, I did it myself.  But I secretly wonder if there was a little community of souls that says yes, I did that.  Just that.  And I made it.

And maybe that is why the bistros in Bordeaux, small with 10-12 tables and limited menus still do well.  Do a few things really well and let others do a lot of things sort of well.  There are many big chains that have the chain thing down.  I just think that we have lost the focus of do less, but do it well.  People will pay for quality, if it is known (Tiffany's of Bern's Steakhouse).  People will pay a lot less for psuedo quality that is known (Steak and Shake or Walmart or Best Buy).

And speaking of doing things well, but in a limited space, I have thoroughly enjoyed my trip. The people were fabulous, the food is wonderful and the time with my daughter is priceless.  I will always appreciate my husband's support.  And I hope that the secret wink and nod, "I did that community" for my daughter will eventually be something she looks back on and maybe even writes about.

I love you Morgan Higman and I love you France!

No One Can Rise to Saint Mont Michel

We left our tiny flat of 90 square feet and headed out to Rennes at 5:45 a.m. in the cold.  The bus that we were to catch was departing as we crossed the street and we watched it go.  Standing on the side of the road freezing for the next 16 minutes, I reminded myself that this is a vacation!  I can rest in Tallahassee.

Miraculously, we made it back to the Gare Nord in time for the train.  And then off to sleep while we rode to Rennes.

So Caen is the center of The War Memorials and Rennes is the center of industry.  I picked it because I thought it would be lovely to see the region.  I also thought that it would allow us to see more of the life styles.  Rennes is very different that Paris or Caen.  It is a working class environment and has the feel of Baltimore, right before a game of the Orioles.  The City is fast moving but has the feel of people that hang at the line of just making it.  The factories are large and the whole city seems to revolve around where they were built, not unlike the city center of other cities.  It is just different when the feel is newer, and by newer I mean 1950s forward.  For Europe, 1950s is a blip.  I can't tell you I was happy to be in Rennes.  I can tell you that from Rennes, you can take a bus to Mont Saint Michel which I can tell you - you have never seen the likes of before...

Aside from being an island off the shore of Normandy, it is truly unique.  Tide going out adds new meaning as it goes out for miles.  You would not know that it is an island on low tide or even near low tide.  it is surrounded by grey sand and grey water and in winter, grey skies.  Mont Saint Michele sits out in a bay of sorts  and stands alone as a majestic monument to things past.  It will humble you with its steps (over 300) and its steepness.  It will awe you with its chambers and staircases to seemingly nowhere.  The men who lived here were much smaller and the people who waited on them smaller still.

I cannot tell you how glad I am that I did not live here in it's peak.  I cannot imagine the loneliness and isolation that they felt and the cold and the lack of fresh water.  I can only dread the waiting on the King or the Bishop and the total servitude it took to allow their position.  Thanksgiving means never having to have been a serf.

On the up side, Morgan and i truly know what ramparts are.  We also know she likes to walk them and I do not.  So I stand below and take pictures and she goes to the high places and looks beautiful!

Back to our little flat in Rennes, where the only problem is the owner forgot to give us the code to the building.  We stand outside waiting for the post person to open the door, except guess what, she can't so we wait until another person comes down to check his mail.  I now the feeling of "we might be sleeping in the bus station tonight."  The apartment was very cute and considering we were there less than 12 hours, it would have been perfect, if not for the code issue.  Up again at 5:45 a.m. (is this a Morgan Higman thing or what?).  Off to Bordeaux.  If Rennes is the bastion of industry, Bordeaux is the haven of youth and professionalism.

Entering the city is like walking into Portland times two centuries.  There are certain people I can see as Parisians, but there are so many more that I can see as Bordeaux-ins.    The City is old and young, cobblestones and wi fi, cafes and Apple stores.  It has seven musees within walking or biking of Town Center.  There are two colleges on the map.  I am so excited!  Off tomorrow for tour on bikes then Sunday off to a tour of three vineyards.  Sunday night, back to Paris.  But let us not think of that.

For the few who asked what happens after my interview: I will be sent a preference of assignment.  I have several days to accept.  If I do , then all is well.  If I do not, then they write me with offer two or I write them with offer two.  Only three offers are permissible.  So, very structured interview with very structured responses.  We shall see what we shall see, eh?

By the way, we are staying in a "atypical apartment" which is not an apartment but a very old building turned into offices and living environments.  The walls are old stone.

You have to go out a very old four foot door to go to the bathroom and then you share it with the hosts.  the toilet is not in the same room as the sink.  The challenge for me is remembering where I am at three in the morning and not falling or getting lost.  Oh to have had money and opportunity when I was young!

Our hosts are very nice and properly distant.  He is in mergers and acquisitions ( I will talk to Beth later)  and she appears to stay home, though not clear on that.)  And it quite close to city center and all things important.  I am very Thankful that Morgan let met be part of her trip.  And that I had an interview.

Happy and giving Thanks from France!

Rising to the Occasion of the Best Scam Ever

The day was filled with cold and excitement and the awareness of being in a new place so far from home.  Morgan and I headed out early (can I tell you how good it is to see my baby) for the Eiffel Tower and all that follows.  I am a huge proponent of cities by foot.

So after the lovely tour of the ships parked by the river, the quays and quais, we went up and saw the merry go round and the Eiffel Tower.  We proceeded down the line for the  Chaveliers Musee at the park end.   Walking out of the Eiffel Tower Park and just before the road, a man scoops up something from the dirt and runs in front of us.   He picks up a ring and presents it on his very fat fingers.  He cannot wear the ring he mimes, so it can be yours....  once he hands off the ring to you, he follows you.  And says , "May Madam, Madam, "j'ai seulement besoin assez d'argent pour manger."  enough money to eat...  and then I turn to Morgan and say give back the ring.  She does but he puts in on and says it will not fit.  And then he says again money to eat.  She gives him the two euros in her pocket.  then he chases us and asks for the money in my pocket.  I am on and so is Morgan and we say he can have the ring back and he turns away.

.We walk and "s'il vous plaît  madam again."  and then Morgan realizes that there is a scam and says to me keep walking.  Morgan realized and did not want to discuss the scam. She was all business until we were safely away from the man who could be any country or person.

I am proud of my daughter and proud of the man for trying. and if anyone needs a nice ring please email Morgan....